


When Is Again

by Jouissance (restrained_ubiquity)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kabby, dealing with my feels, may we meet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restrained_ubiquity/pseuds/Jouissance
Summary: In the aftermath of Kane's (very very awful) death, I had to depress my self even more.Abby dealing with the loss of absolutely everything.





	When Is Again

Her eyes open slowly. Her breath deep and steady. Everything about that is wrong. 

She’s had this dream a thousand times and a thousand times woken up from the sound of her own screams with a hammering heart and a body drenched in sweat. They were in the airlock waiting to die: Jake, Clarke, Raven, Marcus...The players changed but the game always ended the same way. She’d watch her hands pull the lever that would send her loved ones to their death, only she was the one that the emptiness of space ripped away. She felt the pull and pop in her shoulder, the burn in her lungs, the cold of a million needles on her skin as she screamed but made no sound. 

When there was another body in her bed she would let him hold her, tether her back to the safety of the ground, run fingers through her hair and promise her over and over that her nightmares were improbable. They had fallen from the sky and weren’t returning to it. She was safe. They were safe: first on the ground, then beneath it. Always his arms, always his promises. Always never lasts. 

He left her a letter, having intended to end his life and destroy her sins without her having to bear witness to another man she loved being tossed out to space like garbage. He’d underestimated her stubbornness once again. It says nothing she didn’t already know, nothing that he didn’t tell her in the moments before his final death, but they’re his words, his heart, if not his handwriting. It ends as she supposes it should. May we meet again, in the tiny, uniform print that belonged to his former hand. As if it had taken to the end of the letter for him to remember how it was supposed to look. It’s what they say, a goodbye as natural as any hello and none of them ever thought to ask when “again” would actually be.

She tucks his letter in her pocket. Places two of her own on top of the desk. There’s one for Clarke asking forgiveness, granting understanding if she can’t. There’s so many reasons for her daughter to hate her, but Abby hopes that Clarke will never truly understand why she is doing this, that she never feels so much that she can no longer feel anything at all. There’s another letter for Jackson, along with her medical bag. It’s ancient, probably irrelevant, but it’s her and she hopes it’ll bring comfort to him. She leaves her boots by the desk in medical. There’s no sense in wasting something so valuable. They were another woman’s before hers, someone else’s before that. The shoes of the dead passed on like the stories of their lives. Maybe Raven will wear them for a time; maybe the literal act of waking in her footsteps will help the younger woman understand. Abby hasn’t lost her humanity. She’s lost everything else. 

It’s completely silent as she makes her way in bare feet through dark, empty corridors. This ship is unfamiliar and she laughs softly to herself as she passes the same bulkhead a second time. Left then, she turns, turns again until she’s standing at the last place she saw Marcus Kane alive. It was still HIM. The voice may have been deeper, the flesh younger and muscle stronger, but when she looked into those sad, pleading eyes she could only see him. Calm, certain, and so heartbreakingly in love with her. 

The ones that have gone before her, the men she loved, had accepted their fate, stood bravely holding her gaze until they were ripped away. She remembers vividly that split second of terror in their eyes before they were lost to the endless black of space. Will her eyes look the same? She thinks she’s prepared. There’s a sense of dejavu as she enters the airlock and hears the sound of the door hissing back closed. All those nightmares are now lessons as she watches her hand close around the lever to release the outer door. Push all the air from your lungs so you won’t feel them burst, let go do the handle instantly so you won’t dislocate your shoulder, close your eyes.

She’s afraid, suddenly trembling from more than the cold air. She didn’t expect to be. Her eyes open slowly, searching the space on the other side of the door, but no one is there to be her witness. How long will it be before they notice she’s gone? WIll they look for her? Raven might. Underneath all that hate she thinks the girl still loves her, but it’s not enough. There’s not enough of her left to be enough for anyone. Not even herself. 

She’ll be her own witness, she decides, tightening her grip on the lever, closing her eyes once more. Her breath steadies and she lets her mind go back to when life was something to be lived. To laughter with her husband and her daughter, to watching sunrises under heavy furs with Marcus’s arms tightly around her. She sends a silent prayer that a god she never truly believed in is merciful. She hopes that she sees both men that she loved on the other side of this life. She hopes that Jake will understand if she runs into Marcus’ arms. 

She knows he will. 

Her dreams were wrong, or maybe she’s finally done something right. There’s no pain in her arm, no burning in her chest. Only darkness, then blinding light. Familiar voices and strong arms wrapping her up...again.


End file.
